


Exactly where you should be

by hereticpop



Category: SMAP
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-20
Updated: 2011-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticpop/pseuds/hereticpop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the press conference, they go drinking and it’s a disaster. Nakai says “congratulations” once and all Kimura does is raise his glass in acknowledgement</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exactly where you should be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [smapxslash anonymous fic request meme](http://smapxslash.livejournal.com/35683.html).

After the press conference, they go drinking and it’s a disaster. Nakai says “congratulations” once and all Kimura does is raise his glass in acknowledgement, then he downs it all and has it refilled before Nakai takes a second gulp. He drinks himself steadily into a stupor and after Nakai’s third or fourth attempt at conversation dies as well, Nakai gives up and they continue in silence. It’s not even midnight when Kimura’s eyes are already so empty Nakai can’t stand looking at him anymore, so he makes him get up, with some trouble, and takes him home. In the cab Kimura’s head falls onto Nakai’s shoulder, so Nakai thinks he’s going to tuck him to bed as soon as they arrive and then leave quietly. Kimura won’t have any of that. He seems very awake again as soon as they step to the street. His walk is unsteady, but fumbling with the keys takes him shorter than Nakai expected.

They stumble into the flat, Kimura holding on to Nakai’s shoulder and consequently pulling him with himself when he trips but he manages to keep on his feet. Nakai wasn’t sure what to expect but thankfully _she_ is not there (he wouldn’t know what to say, but even more he would be afraid of what Kimura might say in this state). Kimura kicks his shoes off, sending them flying in different directions while Nakai struggles with his. He goes to the kitchen and Nakai has no choice but to follow. The light seems eerie, and it has Nakai wondering if the light bulb is dying or if he’s just more drunk than he thought.

“Beer?” Kimura offers, opening the fridge, but Nakai throws himself quickly to shut it, almost crushing Kimura’s fingers with the door.

“No, honestly, you’ve had enough.”

“What… ‘re you… talkin’bout?” Kimura protests, but it seems like every word is a pain to articulate, he has to raise his index finger indicating for Nakai to wait a moment as he tries to regain the command over his tongue. He seems to forget about what he was going to say though, as he sinks down to sit on the floor and lights a cigarette. Nakai grabs a dirty glass from the counter and pours water into it to use it as an ashtray before he sits down with his back against the fridge (just in case), facing Kimura’s profile.

Three cigarettes later (the only indication of time they care to notice), Kimura’s head seems clearer and his speech easier, he’s starting to become aware of the situation.

“Sorry,” he glances at Nakai from under the heavy fringe falling into his eyes. “For all this. I didn’t really mean to…”

Nakai shakes his head to indicate it’s alright and Kimura doesn’t have to say anything. They were there for each other through the years and nothing has changed, even if Kimura must feel like something is changing now. Something is definitely changing for him now. Nakai tries to imagine it and the mere thought makes his throat tighten with panic.

“I… what…” Kimura’s lips move but the sound doesn’t come immediately. “Nakai. What have I done?”

Nakai closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He wants to say something wise about making choices, responsibility and life in general, but nothing comes. There is nothing he can say and he knows it. There was no choice to be made in the first place, because Kimura is how he is and Nakai has known him long enough to understand for Kimura there was no other possibility he could consider. And it’s exactly like him to only share his doubts when it’s too late to change his mind. It makes Nakai so angry, he doesn’t even realise his hands are balled into fists until he hits on the hard tiles of the floor and his knuckles ache.

When he opens his eyes Kimura’s head is lowered.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“Shh. It’s gonna be fine.” He moves awkwardly closer, cups Kimura’s face and forces it up and it’s only then that he notices Kimura is crying, tears silently trailing down his cheeks. “Everything’s gonna be…”

The kiss tastes of salty tears and stale breath but it’s not necessarily bad, Nakai thinks. There’s a sense of familiarity in it, of being exactly where you should be right now and taking the other person exactly for what they are, without gloss and fake pretences. They are still sitting on the kitchen floor and it’s not very comfortable when Nakai tries to lean in and Kimura ends up hitting his head on the cupboard behind him, but they can’t care enough to do anything about it. Not until they are starting to lose control anyway, when Kimura pushes Nakai’s beanie off his head to slide his fingers through his hair and Nakai starts to kiss his neck as he is slipping on the tiles and if he doesn’t do something, he’s going to fall onto Kimura. He holds onto Kimura’s t-shirt, and Kimura tries to pull him up but loses balance and they both tumble to the floor, where they continue to kiss until it becomes too much to handle in the current position.

“Bed?” Nakai whispers to Kimura’s ear and receives a short nod in response. He picks himself off the floor and helps Kimura up and he is still holding his wrist when they go to the bedroom. Kimura seems a little shaky, so Nakai makes him sit down on the edge of the bed before he starts undressing him. Kimura in turn tries to undo Nakai’s pants but his fingers can’t work the button, so Nakai shoves him back onto the bed and quickly takes his own clothes off, managing to trip only once. He hesitates just for the briefest of moments, looking at the naked man sprawled before him. Were he completely sober, he would wonder if what he is doing isn’t actually the opposite of reassuring his friend in his life decisions. The haze of alcohol and arousal makes it so easy to put this thought away for later, though.

The tears are still glistening on Kimura’s cheeks and it makes Nakai want to cry too.

He has wondered if Kimura isn’t too wasted to handle this, but it seems he has either managed to sober up considerably or he wasn’t as drunk as Nakai thought in the first place. He pulls Nakai on top of himself immediately and kisses him hard and moans into his mouth when their erections brush against each other. Nakai kisses his face, his neck and his chest as he moves down his body. He has a vague awareness that this is their first and _last_ time; he doesn’t even know if tomorrow he will still want another time, but for now all he wants is to make Takuya feel good. Judging from the soft sighs he can hear (when Kimura’s thighs aren’t blocking his ears) this is exactly what he does, and more.

“Hiro. I want you in me,” Kimura utters when Nakai is hovering between his spread legs. Nakai can’t say no to this.

He tries to go slowly at first but Kimura pulls him for a kiss and tells him not to hold back and the way his voice is quiet but firm is enough for Nakai to lose restraint. His thrusts become desperate, almost angry, while Kimura’s body wraps around him as if inviting him to sink completely in. He can barely stand the look of Kimura’s sweaty face, thrown back as his body arches under Nakai, so- _fucking_ -beautiful, it makes his insides tighten with sadness. He battles the tears forming under his eyelids.

He wishes they could keep going like that forever, but his body won’t let him, not even for much longer. His hand wrapped around Kimura’s erection twists in the rhythm of his thrusting and he makes it a point to keep his eyes open so that he can see the exact moment when Kimura comes, with a soft groan, his luscious lips open as he falls back. It pushes Nakai off the edge immediately; they fall together.

Cleaned up, Nakai wants to put his clothes on and go, but Kimura only lets him pull his boxers on before he catches his hand.

“You can stay, you know.”

Nakai looks at him sitting on the bed, still naked, his ruffled hair falling into his eyes and the sudden surge of pain in his chest almost tears him apart.

“Alright,” he says. He slips into bed next to Kimura and wraps an arm around his waist. He knows this is impossible and too risky, so he waits until Kimura falls asleep and carefully gets out of bed, dresses and goes home.

All Kimura finds in the morning is a beanie, forgotten on the kitchen floor.


End file.
